


Ventriloquist

by edwardnashtons (freckledandspectacled), freckledandspectacled



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M, Season 5 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-12 08:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17464028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledandspectacled/pseuds/edwardnashtons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledandspectacled/pseuds/freckledandspectacled
Summary: In hindsight, maybe allowing a man who was never seen without his hand up a creepy puppet into his home was an unwise decision.





	Ventriloquist

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of some potential dialogue in season 5 that was leaked.

In hindsight, maybe allowing a man who was never seen without his hand up a creepy puppet into his home was an unwise decision. Oswald was trying to be _nicer_. Now look where it had gotten him. 

And not only was he in peril, but the man had somehow also gotten to Edward. Oswald supposed he’d missed some vital signs. Edward had come to him weeks ago, accusing Oswald of being the cause of fainting spells and blackouts. Oswald had vehemently denied it all and sent him packing, the fact that his former friend was losing time was of no concern of his. Not when there was a city to battle for. 

It all made sense now. Now, when Edward was once again pointing a gun at him (though, this time his consent to the act was questionable at best). Ventriloquist had likely gotten to Edward when he was at his weakest, still recovering from his injuries in Oswald’s care. No wonder Edward had blamed him, his symptoms had only started following his stay with Oswald. He tunes back into the conversation. 

“—starving, fighting for scraps while your dog ate steak!” Oswald is almost offended on his pet’s behalf. What was Edward supposed to eat, table scraps? She was no common bitch. 

“I welcomed you into my home!” Oswald argues. He turns his attention to Edward, hoping that maybe he can get through to him. “Ed, yes, I was not a good friend—”

“It that supposed to be the start of an apology?” the hideous puppet interrupts. “Because if it is, it could use some revisions.”

“Edward,” Oswald begins again, ignoring him. “You don’t want to do this—”

“Oh, part of him does, I assure you,” Ventriloquist says. “Otherwise this wouldn’t be nearly as easy. Eddie, shoot him.”

Edward obediently lifts the gun, aiming at Oswald’s center mass. He cocks it. Panicked, Oswald raises his hands. There has to be a way to reason with him. 

“No, wait!” Edward’s hand is shaking, and he hasn’t pulled the trigger yet. Something is happening. 

“I said shoot him,” Ventriloquist barks. 

“Ed, you know I never wanted to hurt you, not really. I know you feel the same way. This isn’t you. You don’t want to do this,” Oswald pleads. He’s always been good at begging for his life, and he can only hope this will go well enough. It’s hard to see with how far away Edward is, moreso considering the dim lighting and the cover of his glasses, but the way his shoulders shake and his cheeks glisten makes Oswald wonder for a moment if he’s crying. 

“Shoot him!”

“You know how I feel about you,” Oswald says, daring to take a step forward. “Nothing’s changed. I wish I could change it, but you know that, too. You _know_ me, Edward. Just as I know you. _Fight it._ ”

“Shoot, dammit!” Ventriloquist bellows, and in one swift movement Edward turns and fires his gun right between his eyes. Even he can’t miss at point blank range. Oswald’s entire body sags in relief, and a moment later Edward crumples as well. Thankfully, Oswald sees him sway on his feet, rushing forward quickly enough to cradle his head and little else. Falling to his knees like this is agony, but it’s well worth it. He’d caught Edward once before during a similar spell, before the other man had claimed the library as his own. Oswald lays his head down gently and fetches a pillow from a chair, sliding it underneath. 

Edward stirs, blinking blearily up at him. “Is he gone?”

“You killed him,” Oswald confirms. “Are you okay?” 

Edward ignores him, turning his head. He stares intently, and Oswald follows his gaze to the puppet.

“Burn it,” Edward whispers. “I want it gone.”

“Of course,” Oswald promises, quickly busying himself with stoking a fire hot enough to destroy the ugly doll. He tosses it in, turning to find that Edward is sitting, watching the flames consume the instrument of his subjugation. Oswald wishes he’d seen it earlier, not for the first time and not for the last.

“Now,” Oswald begins, his tone stern, “how are you feeling?”

“Better,” Edward says, his voice soft. Oswald walks over to him and reaches a hand down, helping to pull Edward to his feet. To his surprise, Edward folds himself into Oswald’s arms, embracing him. His chin hooks over Oswald’s shoulder, thin frame cramming itself down into his own. Edward sighs and turns his head as Oswald puts his arms around him, holding him close. He feels Edward’s breath warming his ear before he even speaks, though what he says next suffuses Oswald with more warmth than he believed he could ever feel again. 

  


“Take me home.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't expect it to be like this, but boy do I wish it would. Thoughts?


End file.
